


Unexpected Afternoons

by Umi (umichii)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Barcelona fic, First Meeting, GPF 2015, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10596102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umichii/pseuds/Umi
Summary: Barcelona on a Sunday noon was cool and lazy. It made Otabek wish for a friend he could have spend the day with. Yuri Plisetsky was not part of the plan, but Otabek was glad he got to spend the afternoon with him anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed. Majority of the descriptions here are based on my adventures in Barcelona, so please pardon me if there are any inconsistencies, it has been a few years already since I was last there. Park Güell is one of my favorite spots, and I happen to have visited it months before they implemented an entrance fee. 
> 
> (Look, I just really want to write an Otayuri fic after the madness of WTTM ok? I mean, have you seen the face these two boys were making at each other after their trip to the park? First Friends Feels, man. Now please cry with me.)
> 
> Halfway through writing this, while thinking of a good title, I thought of this [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pMADH8FUYco). It fits the entire atmosphere of this fic. Hope you enjoy!

Barcelona on a Sunday noon was cool and lazy, like a fat cat lying down on its belly about to nap the afternoon away. Few of the people around them were locals. A lot of tourists bundled up in jackets and sunglasses walked around with sticks, taking pictures in every angle possible.

Climbing up to the top of the park, Otabek tried to avoid getting hit by the waving sticks as much as he can. He was promised the view will be worth it.

The sun was just about to set, the sky turning from clear blue to warm yellow. He passed by the dragon on the third landing of the mosaic stairs, took a narrow pathway upwards, stairs on top of stairs, local artists displaying their crafts beside pillars and archways, and through large, airy halls. He took a moment to appreciate the colorful mosaic ceilings. He stood before a busker and listened until they were done performing, clapping and tipping when they bowed. Then he went further down the hall and climbed up even more stairs and then finally, he reached the terrace.

The square stretched out wide and open, rimmed by scaled mosaic benches. He walked up to the edge where the terrace offered the grandest panoramic view of the city, and slowly felt his heart creeping up his throat in staccatto beats. In the distance, he could see the tall, unfinished spires of the Sagrada Familia Church, and beyond the shadow of the great Catalan mountain, the brilliant sun casting its warm, bright glow over the city. The strangest anticipation seized him wth a tight grip. Otabek did not understand why, but in that moment, he felt the deepest ache for a presence beside him to share this warmth with and the need to hold a hand and ground him back onto this earth.

—

The afternoon proceeded in the least expected manner Otabek could possibly think of. He had just finished a cup of hot chocolate, the bitter thickness of it settling into his belly with a promise of fifty crunches tonight, when he heard the shriek. At the end of the street, a young, hooded boy appeared and turned around the nearest corner and into a small alleyway. A horde of girls appeared next, the obvious source of shrieking and cries of 'Yuratchka.'

"We're about to have a fan meeting!"

With a small amused huff, Otabek donned his helmet and climbed onto his motorbike.

Time to save a fairy.

—

Meeting Yuri Plisetsky now was different from when Otabek was only fourteen and struggling in his own growing body.

Then, he had felt out of breath and out of place, a grown man surrounded by children and yet unable to keep up. The ugliest duckling in the company. And then there was Yuri Plisetsky, ten years old and already polished and poised with the eyes of a soldier and the back of a winner.

The boy was not like the small and angry Yuri Plisetsky he saw at the hotel lobby earlier. He had expected a rejection or at least some strongly worded struggle. After all, Yuri did call him an asshole in what is supposed to be their first meeting in five years. But instead, Yuri had looked at him with wide eyes, the curiosity so openly projected, and behind it, a starvation for companionship that echoed loudly in Otabek's chest.

Old habits had Otabek keep a spare helmet with him whenever he rode a bike. No one can tell when he'd need to give someone a ride. The helmet was standard size but seemed too big for Yuri's head, and half the ride, Yuri had an arm wrapped tightly around his waist, delicate hand awkwardly clutching his belt, while the other held onto the helmet keeping its lid from banging against his eyes. Otabek would have gladly taken any opportunity to watch Yuri trying to balance the oversized helmet.

He was supposed to return back to the hotel, but he figured Yuri must have come from there and was planning to explore the city too. Otabek did not know where else to go other than to revisit all the places he had been to today.

The ride was interesting and fun in a way Otabek had not expected, and Otabek decided then to stop having expectations whenever Yuri Plisetsky was involved. They passed by colorful, whimsically designed buildings _("Woah!")_ and the sweet scent of freshly deep fried churros. _(Yuri groaned and made a promise to eat one if he medals.)_

Yuri had a reaction for every attraction, and when they went up the hill towards Park Güell, Yuri had held onto him tighter than before and warned him not to drop him or else he'd tell Yakov, as if Russian geriatric coaches are the worst possible threats one could think of. He had thought of stopping midway for a plate of paella but decided against it when he noticed the sun already halfway down.

He parked the bike at a designated parking area and motioned for Yuri to get off and hand over the helmet.

He was securing the helmet to the bike when he heard Yuri ask, "This place is…?" and without much thought, he answered vaguely, "A really nice park."

"I know that, asshole," Yuri snapped, and when Otabek looked up, he saw Yuri glaring at him. He sighed and shook his head. "It's called Park Güell. Designed by Gaudí. A really famous tourist spot."

Yuri eyed the crowd milling about the entrance with distaste. "Obviously," he drawled.

Otabek shrugged and turned towards the park. Yuri followed without another word, and together, they retraced Otabek's path up towards the terrace. They stopped in every landing for Yuri to take a picture with a mosaic statue.

(Yuri tried very hard to take a selfie with the salamander but his hand kept shaking from the inclination of the steps.

"You know, I can take a picture of you and the statue," Otabek offered and after the third failed, Yuri finally acquiesced and let Otabek take a photo of him doing a rock on sign with the salamander using Yuri's phone. Otabek made sure to send a copy of the picture to himself before returned Yuri's phone back.)

Halfway through the pathway, a cat appeared, so of course they had to stop so Yuri can pet it. Otabek took a picture of the two, thought of posting it in Instagram, but decided against it when he saw the gentle smile on Yuri's face as he put down the cat.

With the leisurely speed it took them to reach the top of the stairs, they managed to make it to the Hypostole Room before sundown, casting warm yellow orange light all over its large open hall. Otabek watched Yuri roam the entire place, trailing behind, as their shadows danced around tall columns. Yuri's mouth was agape in awe as he looked at all the mosaic designs on the ceiling and took pictures of almost everything in all possible angles. The musicians are gone, but there was still an artist remaining inside, at the corner by the stairway leading up to the terrace, so this time, Otabek went up to the artist and bought a small watercolor portrait of the park's facade for 10 euros.

Otabek called out Yuri's name before the boy could wander further into the other walkways. "We can catch the sunset if we hurry up," he said, and again to his surprise, Yuri agreed with a tiny nod of his head.

They finally arrived at the terrace a moment after, and unlike before, the square was clearer and the view more magnificent. Otabek felt his breath taken away by the sight as much as he heard Yuri gasp. They went to the centermost bench and leaned over the tiled back. The wind up here was cool and much welcomed after the long climb.

The entirety Barcelona sprawled out beyond them, casted in the yellow orange glow of the setting sun. Behind them, their shadows stood like two pillars waiting for a standoff.

But it was not a standoff that Otabek was looking for when he decided to save Yuri from his fans. While it might have stung to learn that he was not remarkable enough for a ten year old child like Yuri to remember him back in that summer camp, he was relieved that at least Yuri knew him now because they stood on equal footing, Otabek with a bronze World medal to his name and Yuri a junior gold on his senior debut. That was infinitely better than being known for someone so pathetic he had to be grouped with the novice skaters.

And when Otabek turned towards Yuri and he was met face to face with the younger skater, his heart sang with pride and he knew. Otabek knew he made the right choice.

"Will you be friends with me or not?"

He reached out his hand for the same reason Yuri had accepted his offer to escape. When their hands clasped together, Yuri's a firm weight against his, Otabek's chest fluttered and yet his feet were still attached to the ground, and in that moment, he did not feel so alone anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the local watercolor artist inside Park Güell who taught me how to preserve watercolor on paper pieces.
> 
> Please leave some kudos and comments, they let me know I'm doing something well. You can also come over to my [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/umichii) and wail with me.


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